Month: December 2009

What we did this weekend.

Saturday

Got up early, went to Lowe’s to knock out our mile-long list that we’ve been adding stuff to for weeks now. Stopped by Walmart to pick up a few things. Fred put the truck in the back forty, and hooked it up to the trailer, which was partially in the pig yard. He does that a week or so before it’s time to take them off to Freezer Camp so they’ll be used to it. Usually, he feeds them in the trailer, but the pig yard is now so freakin’ wet and muddy all the time that they were tracking tons of mud into the trailer. Once he determined that they had no fear of the trailer, he went back to feeding them on the ground so they wouldn’t be slipping around in mud in the trailer.

At 10, our weeks-long discussion about whether or not we wanted a Kindle as a joint Christmas present (from us, to us) came to a head due very much to the fucking FIFTY POUND book Stephen King just put out (reading in bed with that book = PAINFUL. Stephen King must be getting a kickback from Amazon for that freakin’ book), and I simultaneously placed an order for a Kindle at Amazon, and placed an order for this “Room with a View” for the cats (I know, I know, we do NOT need it, but it was HALF PRICE! God, I love Jeffers Pet.) I had to wait ’til 10 to place the order for the cat thing because it wasn’t going on sale ’til 10, and we had intended to be in the car AT 10, so when we left 10 minutes late, I was STRESSED and snapped at Fred who was wandering around the kitchen wanting to know where I’d put his cinnamon gum.

“DID YOU NOT KNOW YOU NEEDED YOUR GUM TEN MINUTES AGO!” I snarled. “WHY ARE YOU WAITING UNTIL NOW TO LOOK FOR IT?!”

So, we left. We got to Petsmart about 10 minutes late, but it was okay because the other helper was already there, and the display was set up and… oh? Did I not tell you?

Guess who played Santa at Petsmart on Saturday? And guess who was his helper?

Of COURSE I didn’t tell you in advance that Fred was playing Santa at Petsmart. He would have killed me and buried me in the back forty if I’d announced that he was playing Santa and y’all (or even some of y’all) showed up!

It was kind of fun. He played Santa a few years ago for another animal rescue group; this year it was for Challenger’s House. I’ve never been a “helper” before, so I had no idea what to expect. I’d been told that coming in costume was not only allowed, but encouraged, and as the day approached, I was starting to worry because not only did I not have any kind of costume, I had no kind of Christmassy outfit at all. I ended up buying a long-sleeved green t-shirt at Walmart and wearing a red t-shirt over it, and getting a last-minute Elf hat at Walmart. It was fine.

The other helper took the pictures, and I handed out the envelopes, printed out the pictures, and put them in the frames. It wasn’t super busy, and there was lots of down time. The time, not surprisingly, went by a lot faster when we were busy.

There were a LOT of adorable dogs, and they were all surprisingly well-behaved. I was disappointed that there were no cats or other animals, though.

So, if you’re local (or even if you’re not – I’m pretty sure Petsmarts across the country are all doing this) and want to help out Challenger’s House (or your local animal rescue group), go have your animal’s picture taken with Santa! It’s going on next Saturday and Sunday, and the Saturday and Sunday after that from 11 – 4.

I tried to convince Fred that we should go next weekend and take a chicken to have its picture taken with Santa, but he doesn’t seem to be going for that.

Sunday

I slept in ’til 6:03 (I’ve been getting up at 5:30ish so we can dose everyone with Lysine before Fred goes to work – and Saturday I had to get up early so we could get to Lowe’s and Walmart and home again as early as possible), then got up and did all the usual morning stuff (shower, litter boxes, dosing kittens with Lysine). I started going through the house gathering up boxes (we had a LOT of boxes laying around, because every time I get something in the mail and take it out of the box, the kittens are all “I LOVE THIS BOX IT IS THE BEST BOX EVER” and so I leave the box. The house was starting to look all hoarder-y, so it was time to do some cleaning. When I was done, the boxes were either stacked in a closet (if they were a good size for shipping stuff) or piled by the door (to be piled in the garage for the next trip to the recycling center), and then I cleared a few things off the table, did laundry, vacuumed the downstairs, and canned black beans.

(You are pondering to yourself at this very moment, I know you are, you are saying “Self, I wonder just because I am the curious sort, how many half-pint jars of black beans does one get from a one-pound bag of black beans once they have soaked overnight and then cooked for half an hour?”, and the answer is seven. Seven half-pint jars from one pound of dried black beans. Honestly, I thought it would be more.)

Then Fred went out to his workshop and he used some of the wood he’d bought at Lowe’s the day before, and he made a crate for me, a crate that will perfectly hold a dozen half-pint jars.

It was PERFECT. It was sturdy and the perfect size, and I liked it one hell of a lot. So he went back out and made two more for me. And I liked those a hell of a lot, too. Then I said “How many more crates can you make from the wood you bought?” He said “One more.” I said “Huh.” He said “What?” I said “I could use about ten more of them, to be honest.”

(I am using the crates to store jam and chicken broth because I’ve run out of room in the canning cabinet.)

He offered to show me how to make them myself, swearing that it was easy as pie. So once my black beans were done processing, I took them off the heat, and we went out to his workshop.

And I’ll be goddamned if it wasn’t awfully damn easy. I mean, they’re certainly nothing fancy, but I am certainly nothing fancy, and I certainly do not require fancy crates to store jars of jam and chicken broth in.

Mademoiselle Orange, with the great big mouth, approves. She guesses. But thinks the crate would be much better if there was a plate of food in there for her to scarf down.

I said to Fred, “Now that I know how to make a wooden box I FEEL LIKE THE WORLD IS MY OYSTER!”

I can sense myself champing at the bit* to become a box-making motherfucker.

At almost 2:00, Fred went out and lured the pigs into the trailer with food (HE USED THEIR LOVE AGAINST THEM) and then closed the trailer. I held the gate for him while he drove through (it’s always stressful for me, because I’m afraid George and Gracie will get out and then be impossible to recapture), and then we left. Driving any kind of distance at all with the pigs in the trailer gets me all stressed, too, because while I know the trailer is good and solid and they can’t break out or anything, THERE’S ALWAYS A FIRST TIME.

But we got them delivered to the, uh, camp counselor safe and sound, and then we made it home safely, as well.

Then we ran a few errands, and by the time we got home it was Snackin! Time! for everyone, and then time to settle down for the evening.

It was a busy weekend, but a productive one, I think.

*After arguing with Fred about whether it’s “chomping” or “champing”, I throw this link in here so that those of you who are about to leave comments telling me that “ROBYN, you are an IDIOT, it is CHOMPING at the bit, DUH” will resist. Except that you probably went and left that comment already before you came back to read the rest of the entry, didn’t you? DUH TO YOU, I SAY.

 

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Since we were at Petsmart for five hours on Saturday, guess who I got to see?

True Blood Terry!

It was SO nice to see him and pet him and snuggle with him for a few minutes. He came right to me when I opened his cage, and he purred like mad, and he rubbed his face on mine, and he talked to me.

I hated putting him back in his cage, but he was so friendly and happy that I just know he’s going to find a home soon. The right person just hasn’t come along, but he would certainly make someone a good Christmas present, don’t you think?

 

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Sweet, sleepin’ Hydrox.

That’s it for the Cookies pics today. Obviously I need to get the camera out and get to snapping more pictures!

 

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Oh, these teenagers and their attitude!

The Wonkas REALLY like sleeping in the bed on the dining room table.

See?

Ahem. It appears that Violet wants to be the focus of the picture!

 

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Okay, cat experts. This is Stinkerbelle. What would you call her? A Lynx point? A Lynx point Torti (because of the orange)? Something else entirely? I’ve never been quite sure exactly how to describe her!

 

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Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: That’s approximately 100 pounds of litter every two weeks.
2006: “I LOOK LIKE SID VICIOUS!” I said.
2005: I love my husband, but “Mrs. Fred And3rson” IS NOT MY FUCKING NAME.
2004: (I never claimed not to be a dumbass)
2003: I would be ever so grateful if you would restrain yourself.
2002: No entry.
2001: I knew y’all were a hip and happenin’ bunch of readers!
2000: Stuff I’ve bought.
1999: And it tasted excellent, of course, which made the eggfart stenchiness more than worth it.

I was reading a blog the other day (for the love of god, don’t ask me which one, I don’t remember), and she mentioned that another blog – a “mommy” blog – had gone passworded, and if you were a frequent commenter, you’d get free access, but everyone else had to pay a monthly fee.

And that just blew me away. Because I truly do not get why anyone on earth would pay to read ANYTHING on the internet. There’s no information on this planet that’s not available for free on the internet – why the hell would anyone pay to read someone’s personal site? There’s no one so fascinating that I’d pay $5 a month to read what they have to say.

I mean, good for her for attempting to make money off her site and all, but (1) I’ve never heard of her before (this is a common thing – except for Dooce and…. well, Dooce, I only have a vague idea of who the “big” mommy bloggers are, and only because Nance tells me something about them and then has to explain who the hell she’s talking about. I sure as shit don’t read any of them. I didn’t know half of the names on the BlogHer list, mostly because mommy bloggers aren’t really my thing. I mean, I read plenty of bloggers who are moms, but I don’t consider them “mommy bloggers.” They might consider themselves mommy bloggers, but I don’t particularly. And it’s funny, I certainly enjoy reading about other bloggers’ kids, but most of them are bloggers (could I say “bloggers” just a FEW more times?!) who do not have their heads up their asses. I get quickly bored by the “Oh my special snowflake, let me tell you AT LENGTH about his/ her special snowflakeness.” shit. To be fair, I’m sure they’d get quickly bored by my “Let me tell you about MAH KITTEHS” shtick, too.) and (2) No one is that fucking fascinating.

I know y’all know of my deep and abiding love for Stephen King, but I wouldn’t even pay to read a blog personally written by him, that’s how opposed I am to paying for access to a site.

For a little while – about a year, I think – I paid to be able to get onto the Consumer Reports site, but then I thought “This is fucking ridiculous. There’s nothing Consumer Reports can tell me that I can’t find FOR FREE on the internet, fuck this paying horseshit.” and let my membership lapse. They email me sadly every few weeks to try to convince me to come back, but I will not be wooed back into that relationship, thanks. I HAVE MOVED ON.

There’s a site I read for a while about frugal cooking and such, and she recently started up a pay forum. Because there aren’t 3 million PERFECTLY free frugal cooking/ shopping sites? I don’t mind clicking on the occasional ad, but paying my own money to read something I could read somewhere else for free?

Ain’t gonna happen.

 

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This will only be interesting to those of you who use Google Reader to keep up on your blog reading. Swistle Twittered the other day about this awesome Google Reader add-on for Firefox.

This one here.

It is AWESOME. There are a lot of options that I don’t even particularly understand so I don’t use them, but the ones I really like are the “preview” one, where you can read those incredibly annoying truncated posts IN THEIR ENTIRETY right there in the Google Reader, and the “cleaner font” skin.

Highly recommended.

As you were, non-Google Reader users.

 

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Grossmans Garden and Home is going to donate a $100 Gift Certificate to the Verona Street Animal Society’s Frosty Paws Silent Auction if we can help get their number of Fans on Facebook to 500 by the end of the year (they are currently at 170). It’s a stretch but doable.

If you are currently a member of facebook, you can become a Fan of theirs by going to www.grossmans.com – toward the bottom right there is link to become a Fan (or you can search on Grossmans Home and Garden in Facebook and then become a Fan that way).

They are also asking for people to post holiday pictures of their pets up on their Fan page.

 

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The Wonkas have been spayed, neutered, rabies’d, and ID chipped! I picked them up yesterday afternoon, and the boys spent the evening racing around like wild things, then sleeping in my lap. The girls were still a bit dopey, and slept the evening away at my feet.

This morning, it’s like nothing even happened to them. It’s amazing how quickly they recover!

A couple of people asked when they’ll go off to the adoption center. It all depends on when there’s room, but I imagine it won’t be too long now.

I am CERTAINLY going to miss them, so I’m spending as much time loving on them as I can. They’re such a sweet and friendly bunch, I don’t imagine it’s going to take long for them to get snatched up!

I calls him “SnuffleFLOOFaGus.”

::thlurrrrrrrp!::

Peekaboo!

 

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Forever Foster asked how I resist the urge to smooch my fosters all the time. The truth is, I never ever resist the urge. I am ALWAYS kissing a kitten. If there’s a kitten near me, I’m usually kissing it, about to kiss it, or have just kissed it. I am a kitten-kissing fool. My lips are actually chapped from all the kissing.

Fred occasionally wonders aloud what cats think about all the kissing that goes on, whether they understand that it’s a sign of affection. I think they might not understand exactly what’s up with the kisses, but they must like it, because they almost always start purring as soon as I do it.

I forgot to mention about Pink’s eyes in yesterday’s post. Basically, the vet doesn’t know what’s going on. She says it’s probably not herpes, because it would be unusual for only one in the litter to have it. Her eyes aren’t goopy or bothering her, and there’s no corneal abrasion. She said that it’s possible that Pink is just more sensitive to her environment, and suggested a few things to try. For now, we’re giving her Chlorpheniramine, and Lysine. I think it might be helping, but I’m not quite sure. I’ll probably be better able to tell after a few more day.

All the kittens are getting Lysine right now, as a matter of fact. A cold/ virus started making the rounds with our cats, back before we let the Cookies out of their room. We hoped that it wouldn’t spread to the Cookies, but of course it did. It doesn’t seem to be hitting them as hard as it did Spanky and Miz Poo, and it doesn’t seem to be all of them, but we’ll see if it really develops into anything in the next few days. The Wonkas don’t seem to be affected so far, though I’ve heard one or two sneezes from a couple of them. I’m hoping like hell it doesn’t spread to them!

(And if you guys have any advice on lessening the length/ severity of a virus in cats/ kittens, I’m all ears!)

Pretty Cookie in the sun.

I believe there was a hiss from Spanky right after this picture was taken.

Meezers, but no Tuxie. (Wouldn’t “Tuxie and the Meezers” be an excellent band name?)

Orange and The Brick.

When I took Pink to the vet, I put Hydrox in the carrier with her, as her travel buddy. After the vet had examined Pink, I made her hold Hydrox (she laughed when I told her we call him “The Brick”), and she was amazed at what a solid, heavy cat he is. He’s got such big paws and such long legs, that I think he’s really going to be a big cat. He’s certainly headed that way!

 

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The cold started with Sugarbutt. I’m calling him Typhoid Suggie. (What? You don’t pile your dining room table with cat beds and clean laundry with the intention to fold it and put it away (or find places for the cat beds), only to leave it all piled there for days?)

 

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Previously
2008: I’m off to get my boobs squooshed!
2007: Sitting in the portal, waiting for the mother ship to arrive.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Meester Boogers howled even more forlornly.
2003: I’ll be ONE OF THOSE FUCKING PEOPLE WHO WALKS AROUND SMELLING LIKE CAT PEE WITHOUT KNOWING IT!
2002: Lay on it!
2001: Fred smiled his asshole smile.
2000: No entry.
1999: No entry.

New month, new logo! This was created by the wonderful Christine, who must have sensed that I had JUST realized that I didn’t have a December banner yet, and whipped one up for me.

Thanks, Christine!!!

 

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So, a couple of people pointed out in my comments yesterday that I mentioned we watched a bazillion movies over the long weekend, but I didn’t say anything about any of them. I meant to, actually, but completely forgot in my zeal to talk about food and turkeys.

The movies we watched:

1. The Ugly Truth: I think I’m starting to have a real dislike for Katherine Heigl. I don’t know if it’s the drama queen horseshit she pulls or her increasingly smug, smackable face, or what. I actually fell asleep during the first half hour of the movie, and I can tell you that I did not miss a THING. Predictable, kind of boring. I don’t recommend it.

2. Drag Me to Hell: I can’t believe I watched the whole thing. Alison Lohman might need to think about learning a second facial expression. Even when she’s supposed to look terrified, she mostly looks bored. Or stoned.

3. Transformers 2: We got about 10 minutes in before Fred declared it bad and we turned it off. For the record, I wasn’t even bothering to watch the movie because I had NO desire to see it in the first place.

4. Four Christmases: Cute enough, I suppose. Who doesn’t love Vince Vaughn and Reese Witherspoon? Predictable, but then most romantic comedies are.

5. My Sister’s Keeper: Eh. I read the book, so I knew how it was going to go. However

SPOILER

if you read the book, you know about the twist at the end. They took that out. I guess it was too unbelievable even for Hollywood? I was disappointed, though.

END SPOILER

6. Bruno: Eh. There were some funny parts, but I don’t much care for it when movies make me cringe so often.

7. Food, Inc.: Really the only movie worth watching again (though if pressed, I could probably sit through Four Christmases again). Every time I see a movie like this one, it makes me think about how much more we could be doing. We don’t eat much meat that we don’t raise ourselves anymore, but I really want to see about buying half a cow (or even a quarter of one) from a local farmer who doesn’t raise cows to a certain size and then ship them off to a feedlot. If we had more land, we’d certainly own our own cow or two by now – though I’m starting to think we may actually have enough land already.

I am, obviously, not opposed to eating meat. What I’m opposed to is how the factory meat we buy in grocery stores is treated before it’s slaughtered. I mean, good christ – have you SEEN the footage of what goes on in feedlots? The piles of dead animals? The way they’re crammed together so tightly they can barely move? The way they’re knee-deep in their own waste?

I can’t stand it.

I’m trying to convince Fred that we should take a vacation in the Spring and visit Polyface Farms.

8. Funny People: Self-indulgent piece of crap, for the most part. This movie went on about 45 minutes longer than it needed to. Some funny parts, but not funny enough to ever cause me to want to see it again.

So, out of 8 movies, one I liked and a bunch of “meh”s. That’s about par for the course!

 

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All day Sunday, I cooked the chickens Fred had processed late last week. I like to simmer them for a couple of hours, let them cool, and then debone them for canning. I use my dutch oven (I LOVE MY DUTCH OVEN), fill it mostly full of water, put the chicken in, cover it, bring to a boil, then turn it down so it can simmer. I could accomplish basically the same thing by cooking the chicken in our pressure cooker, but then I don’t end up with all that broth, and I actually think the chicken tastes better after a long, slow cook anyway.

So I’d gotten four chickens done and in the fridge to cool, decided I had time before bed to do one last chicken, and put it in the dutch oven and on the stove.

We were watching Funny People (it’s the movie that never ennnnnnnds, yes it went on and on my friends!) and I glanced at the clock and realized it had been about two hours since I’d put the chicken on, and told Fred we needed to take a break so I could get the chicken into the fridge. As I neared the kitchen, I smelled something that told me immediately that I’d fucked up.

Instead of turning the temperature on the stove down so the chicken could simmer, I’d left it on high, so the water had been boiling for the past two hours, and had boiled away completely. Leaving the chicken in the dutch oven to burn.

And a whole burned chicken? Not a pleasant smell. I got the dutch oven outside and took the cover off so that the house wouldn’t fill with smoke. When I went back to get it ten minutes later, I saw the bottom of the inside of the pot, and I was pretty sure I was going to be needing a new dutch oven.

But after three rounds of boiling water and baking soda, and lots of elbow grease, I got the better part of that burned spot off the bottom, and my dutch oven was saved!

The chicken, not so much.

And no matter what I do, the faint smell of seared chicken hovers faintly throughout the house.

Gah.

But at least I had enough deboned chicken to fill seven pint size jars. I also ended up with lots of broth, which I let sit overnight in the fridge. Yesterday I defatted the broth and combined it in a couple of big containers. Later today, I’ll be canning chicken broth. Tomorrow, I’ll be using the leftover chicken bones to make stock, which I’ll then can.

Along with cooking the last two chickens yesterday and canning chicken, I also put together a turkey and rice casserole (bottom layer of cooked rice, middle layer of shredded or chopped turkey, a layer of gravy, and a top layer of stuffing. Cook at 375 for 30 – 40 minutes.) and a pot of turkey soup. We will literally be eating turkey for the rest of the week, if not longer.

I’m not complaining!

 

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So, guess who’s going for retesting later this morning?

I emailed the shelter manager and asked if taking the Wonkas a few days early would make that much of a difference, and told her the waiting was KILLING me, and pleasepleaseplease could I take them this week instead of waiting ’til the 9th?

She said that was fine, and so yesterday I called to make the appointment.

Pleasepleaseplease keep your fingers crossed that these guys come up FIV negative. Yes, I know that cats with FIV can lead long and healthy lives. That’s fine. But I want these guys to test negative anyway – is that so much to ask?

Fingers crossed!!!!

Edited to add: ALL FOUR TESTED NEGATIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now guess who’s going to be spayed and neutered tomorrow? 🙂

My sweetheart, Mike. Or Mikey, as we usually call him. Sometimes I call him Mickey-Mack. Whatever – he’s gorgeous, isn’t he? I love his eyes.

Bath time for sweet and gorgeous Veruca. This litter is super friendly, but the girls? Super SUPER friendly. They are just so sweet.

Did you know that Gus is the King of the Floof? I probably haven’t pointed out his floof before, have I? I’ve been remiss in pointing out that Gus? He has him some floof. Just a bit. Which he will use to take over the world.

Sweet and gorgeous Violet.

 

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Going off to the vet with us will be Pink (Milano). Her eyes have been pink, on and off, and nothing I try has made a difference. They don’t seem to bother her, and they aren’t goopy at all. They’re super pink when she first wakes up from a nap (see the picture below), and then they get less pink, but they still look pink and swollen to me most of the time. We’ll see what the vet has to say.

They’re super pink when she first wakes up, but then settle down to a less pink color.

Can’t decide between the sparkly toy and the always-appealing packing strap.

She’s Blue, dabba-dee, dabba-dah.

Adorable, yes. Don’t try to pick him up and squeeze him to bits. You’ll throw your back out!

::CHOMP::

 

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Pretty, pretty Kara.

 

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Previously
2008: Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe the caramel popcorn is calling my name. It’s what’s for breakfast!
2007: Where Muh Daddy?! Starring Fricasee “Frick” And3rson
2006: You know, Maxi and Newt. The cats who AREN’T OURS.
2005: “Vivacious! Tell her she’s VIVACIOUS, Dr. Phil!”
2004: I eat too much of the wrong kind of food and am lazy.
2003: “IT’S JESUS DYING ON THE CROSS! HOW CAN THAT POSSIBLY BE CONFUSING YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKERS?”
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Here’s a tip: If they’re your own children, it’s NEVER “babysitting.”
1999: I’m feeling incredibly lazy today (like that’s something new).